Her Voice
by Crisis Rose
Summary: In the aftermath of the storm that almost claimed his life, Eric struggles to draw a line between fantasy and reality as he becomes infatuated by the voice of his rescuer.


Eric stumbled weakly alongside a rather worried looking Grimsby, his arm draped around the older man's sharp shoulders. The image of his rescuer consumed his jumbled thoughts, as did the voice that came with it; though the blinding morning sun combined with his current state had meant that his only view had been the blurred silhouette. But her voice, now that was a different story. The soft harmony sounded clearly through the dizziness and confusion, both of which had struck him the moment he regained consciousness. Each word had been clearer than the last, the melodic sound being the only grasp he'd had on reality; if it even had been reality. No, he was sure it had been real, no matter how much Grimsby insisted that the Prince was merely imagining things as an effect of the night just passed and that he ought to try and forget about it.

Eric groaned softly as he cast his mind back to the hurricane, something that didn't go unnoticed by Grimsby as he shot his young charge a fretful glance.

The elder had known Eric since the day he was born, and cared for him as he would his own son, because that's exactly what Eric had become. It was for this reason that he was so on edge. His emotions had been in a state of turmoil since Eric had dived off the rowboat to rescue Max last night. Watching the ship explode with the young Prince still on board had almost been too much for him to handle; even thinking about it now made his heart race. Finding Eric this morning had been nothing short of a miracle and one that he was incredibly grateful for, for he simply didn't know what he would have done had he not been found.

From what he could tell Eric wasn't badly hurt, though he did look disorientated, and his movements were slow and pained.

Eric's entire body hurt, his aching muscles protesting his every movement. Pain shot up through his legs with each step and his head was pounding, causing his vision to throb in and out of focus every few seconds. His limbs shook with fatigue and, as a result, he was leaning a lot of his weight on Grimsby, though tried mostly to support himself, knowing that Grimsby's was becoming quite frail in his old age.

When the stairs to the palace came into view Eric almost broke down in tears. Walking across the sand had been bad enough, and he wasn't sure if he'd make it to the doors above him, which seemed an eternity away at the moment. But a gentle nudge from Max willed him to continue, and began the ascent one step at a time. The dog walked obediently beside his owner, seeming to know that there was something wrong. Every so often Eric would have to stop and clear his vision, but after what felt like hours he reached the last step. The young Prince let out a relived sigh when he finally stood in front of the wooden doors that would lead him to the safety and comfort of his own home.

Grimsby planted his feet firmly on the ground as Eric swayed uneasily, determined to get him inside before he passed out; something that was looking more likely each second that passed.

"Hold on Eric, we're almost there" he said encouragingly, reaching for the brass door handle. Eric smiled despite the situation, knowing that he could always count on Grimsby to be there for him, even if the old beanpole did overreact sometimes.

* * *

Carlotta paced the front lobby, her pace quickening as her fear increased. She had first heard of last night's happenings early this morning, when Grimsby had returned to the Palace with his clothes tattered and soaked through. When he had informed her that Eric was missed the maid had gone into a complete state of shock. She recalled the moment her strength left her, and just how quickly she had fallen to her knees, unable to process the possibility of her boy being dead.

She glanced out the tall windows to her right, and looked over the smooth surface of the very ocean that had so cruelly taken Eric from her. Of course, at this point she had no way of knowing whether Eric was alive or not, but from what she'd heard she feared the worst. All she could do now was hope and pray that either Grimsby or one of the guards would return with Eric alongside them, having found him alive and unharmed.

Her heart sank further with each minute that passed. The search had been going on since a little after three o'clock this morning, and so far there had been no sign of the Prince, or any of those within the search party. The maid sighed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she collapsed into the chair beside her.

"Please let him be alright" she whispered.

Only after several minutes had passed were her prayers answered.

"Carlotta." The maid's head snapped up at Eric's familiar voice, staring for a moment as if the image was merely a figment of her imagination, like a dream that she could see but never reach. But it didn't take her long to come back to her senses, and wasted no time in rushing over to her son.

"Oh darling," she gasped, wrapping her arms carefully around his shoulders, "you had me worried sick."

"I'm okay" replied Eric, his voice weak and barely above a whisper. Carlotta didn't look convinced, but nodded none the less, taking a step back from the Prince to get a better look at him. The first thing she noted was just how much he was depending on Grimsby to keep him upright. His skin looked pale and his eyes draw and tired, his dizziness was obvious by his uneasy swaying and Carlotta was fairly sure that he was only moments away from collapse.

"Come on, let's get you sat down" she said, as she and Grimsby lead Eric to the chair that she had only minutes ago been sat in. Eric winced and he lowered himself into the chair, but after that relaxed considerably as his aching limbs were granted the opportunity to rest.

"I'll send for Doctor Sheffield" announced Grimsby, heading for the door having seen that Eric was now safe and in Carlotta's capable hands.

Once Grimsby had left the room, Carlotta once again turned her attention to the young Prince before her. He truly did look exhausted, heavens knows what he'd been through to get here.

"Are you in any pain at all darling?"

Eric shook his head slowly, not wanting to worry Carlotta further. But the slightest movement caused his head to spin, and reminded his of the throbbing pain at the back of his skull. His muscles clenched up and he sucked air through his teeth. Only once he felt able to think clearly did he reply to her question.

"Just my head" he answered wearily. This was a lie, but he didn't want to cause Carlotta any more worry; he'd done enough of that already today. Carlotta's heart tore whenever she so much as thought about her boy being in any sort of pain, so to see him so hurt brought tears to her eyes.

"What happened," she asked? "From what Grimsby told me there was very little chance of you surviving." The moment Carlotta had said she felt a twinge of regret. It was stupid to think Eric would want to recall something like that. But, to her surprise he didn't hesitate to answer.

"Someone rescued me," he said, "a girl." Carlotta seemed stunned for a moment, and Eric quickly realised that her reaction was looking to be the same as Grimsby's. The Prince sighed.

"I know it sounds impossible, but she was real, I'm sure of it" he said, staring up at the woman who'd raised him with pleading eyes.

"Eric dear how could a woman have saved you, you were in the middle of the ocean?" Eric felt his heart sink, if Carlotta didn't believe him then no one would. With this realisation Eric lowered his gaze to the floor, his head spinning as he began to realise just how dehydrated he was. His mouth was dry and his throat tight making it difficult to breathe. He was vaguely aware of Carlotta's hand on his shoulder but with each second that passed he felt increasingly dizzy. Carlotta's panicked shout for help exploded through his head in a sudden burst of pain and he suddenly realised that he had only moments of consciousness left… too late. Eric fell forward into Carlotta's arms as the world around him caved in and everything went black.

* * *

_The gentle touch of her hand upon his cheek, that's the first thing he was able to process once he came to. Her soft melodic voice soothed all his aches and pains, and calmed his racing mind, as he breathed in the familiar scent of the ocean. He reached out and held her petite hand in his own. He desperately wanted to open his eyes, but they seemed glued shut. But it didn't matter, because for now he was content with listening to her voice, like that of an angel, for surly no being on Earth could produce such a harmony. _

_Suddenly, the world was silent, and the touch upon his cheek slipped away. It was at that moment that the Prince's eyelids open, searching frantically for any sign of his rescuer. Alas, there was nothing but darkness surrounding him. The first thing that became apparent was the pressure on his chest, his lungs begging him to inhale. And he did so, but succeeded only in swallowing a large amount of seawater. Eric choked, and looked up to the surface so far above him. He began swimming as fast as his weakened state would allow him, trying to ignore the burning need for air that gripped his poor lungs._

_"__Eric." The Prince slowed down, as a voice floated up from the depths of the ocean, the very voice that had sung to him only moments ago. He froze, torn between his desperate need to breathe and following the voice that would surely lead him to the woman he loved. But his shaking limbs and blurred vision told him that even if he kept swimming up, there was no way he'd reach the surface. So, with that in mind he and began his descent into the unknown, though it took all his metal strength not to turn to the surface. He could feel it already, the slowing if his heart, his movements becoming convulsive. But he had to find her; all he had to do... __was… __keep… __going…_

* * *

Eric shot upright, his lungs heaving as he fought to inhale as much oxygen as he could. With little to no strength left, he promptly fell back, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his dream-turn-nightmare. Looking round he could see that he was in his own bed, and judging by the amount of light that was in the room, he could assume that he'd been unconscious all day. But none of that mattered. He didn't care how he'd gotten here, of how long he'd been here; all he cared about was his rescuer.

He had to find that voice.


End file.
